None of the Others Had Noticed a Thing
by jazziisms
Summary: What if the events in HBP went a little...differently? ::HHr
1. On The Train

**I'm in the mood for some Harmony, so I thought, why not just do the thing? :D**

**The time span of this fic will be throughout HBP, based off both the movie and the book, along with my personal interpretation. I've got most of the plot down, but until I get to where I need to be the chapters will just come to me out of the top of my head.**

**Read, review, whatever ;3**

* * *

><p>"Harry?" Hermione's voice brought him out of his thoughts, sounding like a faint echo, getting louder as he finally reached the light at the end of the tunnel. "Harry, are you alright?"<p>

His friend came into view, her chocolate, concerned orbs settled on his blank green ones. She sat across from him, one leg neatly crossed over the other, and _The Daily Prophet_ lay open in her lap.

Harry blinked a few times, spotting a missing party in the compartment. How long had he been out of it? "Where's Ron?"

"He went off to find the trolley a few moments ago," said Hermione.

Harry hummed knowingly, stretching his stiff back, feeling the bones and muscles pop and ripple. He had been in and out of it since they got on the train. Now he felt a little guilty for unintentionally ignoring Hermione. He couldn't help it. It wasn't the first time he had a lot on his mind.

"Don't worry about me, Harry," she said reassuringly, as if reading his very thoughts. "I was just curious, is all. You've been quiet for a while. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Harry gave her a smile that didn't require much force, sitting up a little straighter. "Thanks, but I'm fine."

She smiled back. "Where have I heard _that_ before?"

He chuckled. Hermione was always over-observant. That was probably why she could read anyone like an open book, him the most out of everyone. But then again, although he wasn't as good as her, he had a pretty good read on her as well. He knew when she wanted to know something, and when she already knew it-right now it was a little bit of both.

"I know you think that no one believes you about your theories of Malfoy being a Death Eater-" she began.

"You don't," said Harry.

"I never said that..."

"Yes, because it wasn't implied," his tone dripped with sarcasm. "You said so yourself that you didn't know what you saw. But I did. I know it happened. I know they Marked him."

"And I believe you," she enunciated, leaning forward. "But you have enough on your plate already. Whatever happened to Malfoy...I think you should stay out of it."

Harry stayed quiet. She got up in a hunch, crossing the short space between them within a few steps, and turned so she could sit down next to him. His hands stayed clasped in his lap, regarding her with a judging look, silently demanding the burning question. _Why?_

"I know you mean well, Harry. Maybe a part of you wants to help him-don't give me that," she added when his eyes darkened. "You just never know what's going to happen. Things change..."

Harry began to question the sudden crestfallen look on her face when she put her hand over his own, fingers sliding in the space between his palms. She gave him a reassuring squeeze.

"Let's try to stay positive, yeah?" said Hermione.

Harry squeezed back naturally, returning the pressure. Hermione meant well, but sometimes she didn't understand. The school's safety was already in jeopardy, but when you add a teenaged Death Eater to Harry's pool of problems...

"Are you looking forward to the new Year?"

Harry shrugged. "I suppose. Do you reckon Professor Slughorn will last the Year?"

"The Year?"

"Hermione, have you noticed that every new professor we get, they end up..."

She gasped. "Harry!"

"You're right. Lupin doesn't count."

"That's for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Isn't Slughorn taking the Potions post?"

"If Slughorn is teaching Potions, then that just has Shape left." Harry suddenly grinned darkly.

Hermione shot him a look. "That's not funny."

"Then why are you smiling?"

Her lips quivered, and she ended up joining him in harmonized laughter. "Because sometimes you are so utterly absurd!"

Harry laughed some more. It felt good to smile. "Do you honestly expect any less?"

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him, which he returned in retaliation, and rested her head on his shoulder. She looked at their hands, lifting their entwined limbs to study the slight skin contrast, his paler than hers.

"I don't think it takes this long to get something from the trolley," she spoke after a while.

"It's Ron we're talking about," said Harry simply. He was comfortable like this. One of the many great things about Hermione? She could soothe with a touch. And over the years, they found themselves completely at ease when they were together. Open displays of affection wasn't taken as a big deal for them-even though others think it's another story entirely. "He probably got distracted on the way. Lavender Brown fancies him. Have you noticed?"

"It's hard to ignore," Hermione grumbled. He eyed her questionably. She sat up to look him square in the eye, and her actions caused her fingers to slip away too. Harry was starting to miss the warmth. "Lavender Brown and I never really saw...eye to eye. The mere thought of her and Ron is just mind-boggling."

"And disturbing," Harry coughed, and she giggled.

"This is wrong. I shouldn't judge. Ron may be with whomever he likes."

Harry studied her closely. "Hermione? Are you...jealous?"

"Sorry?"

"Jealous. Are you jealous of Lavender because of Ron?"

"Oh, no." Hermione shook her head. "I'm just concerned, is all. Aren't we all a little protective over each other when it comes to relationships? I mean, you lot flipped your trousers about me and Viktor."

"I don't remember throwing fits."

She smiled sweetly at him. "You were more subtle." And he chuckled.

"No guy will ever be good enough for you, Hermione," said Harry, and her smile widened.

"What about you and Cho?" asked Hermione. "You haven't mentioned her all holiday, so I assumed that you two..."

"Sort of fell apart, yeah," said Harry.

"I'm sorry."

"Why? You didn't do anything."

"Cho had misinterpretations about you and me last Year."

"She wouldn't be the first."

Hermione looked sheepish, brushing a curly strand of hair behind her ear. "Why do you think," she didn't meet his gaze, "that is?" A light blush stained her cheeks.

Harry wet his lips, and the room suddenly got a little hotter. He wanted to avoid this, but there was no way out. He had to be honest with her. They never really talked about this, out loud and to each other.

"Dunno," said Harry. "I, er, think that they...assume that, er, since we're close..."

"And we've been through a lot," said Hermione off-handedly. "And I suppose we get along fairly well."

"Yeah."

Their eyes met.

"And it was you who saved me from the troll that night," said Hermione.

Harry slightly shook his head. "Me and Ron did, remember?"

"No," she murmured. "Both you and Ron were there...but it was _your_ idea to go make sure I was safe."

"It was nothing really."

"To you it was. To me it wasn't. And I don't think you realize how much that night has impacted my life, even now. I wouldn't be the same without you. If it weren't for you, Harry, I would have been in a compartment, alone with my face in a book right now. Or worse, I probably wouldn't even have made it past that night...So thank you."

Harry looked at her from underneath his eyelashes. "You're giving me all the credit. You should be thanking Neville. He was the one who told me where you were."

"But you noticed that I was gone. You asked, did you not?"

_I did, _Harry realized.

The late afternoon sun shone throw the window, brightening the brown in her eyes and the natural highlights in her hair. _Unf_. Guilty thoughts plagued him, but he also welcomed them all the same. He couldn't help but think about her from time to time. Hermione was pretty, and that was the understatement of the century. She really blossomed from the bushy haired bossy girl he met on this very train, seeming like a lifetime ago.

"It's getting late," said Hermione, noticing the period of time as well. "We should change into our robes."

.

Harry walked out of Slughorn's compartment, rubbing the back of his stiff neck. Apparently, he had been invited to the _Slug Club_, whatever that was, for a quick meeting before their arrival. There were many people in that small space that he didn't know, but at least he saw a few familiar faces such as Ginny and Neville, Harry feeling bad for the female Weasley who got stuffed behind Slughorn's stomach, and Luna Lovegood on the way there. Now he was searching for a familiar curly, caramel mane. He craned his neck, looking over the bodies that were now piling out in the hallway.

"Looking for me?" said a voice in his ear, feeling a female presence behind him.

Harry turned, looking down at the smiling bookworm. Huh. Had she gotten shorter?

"Sorry," continued Hermione, pointing at the badge on her chest. "Prefect duty. How was the _Slug Club?_"

"Good. If you like stuffy places," said Harry.

Hermione made a face. "That bad, huh?"

"The tension between Ginny and Zabini was so thick you could slice it with a knife."

"Well," she reached forward, straightening his robes for him, "I'm glad you managed to escape unscathed."

"Malfoy's a Prefect, right?"

Hermione glared at him. "_Yes_. And _no_, you are _not_ going back there. We are going _this_ way." She brushed passed him, pulling the raven-haired teen by the sleeve of his robes.

Harry sighed in defeat, following her outside.

"Oi, you lot!" The youngest male of the Weasleys waved from where he stood, catching their attention. Harry and Hermione made their way over.

"Where have you been?" demanded Hermione.

"Around." Ron gestured to and fro lazily.

"You are a Prefect now, Ronald. This is no time to be fooling around!"

"Well excuse me for trying not to get groped!"

"Oh, come off it!"

"You come off it!"

"You!"

"You!"

"You!"

"Enough, both of you!" snapped Harry, and his two friends regarded him awkwardly. "Ron, try to be more of an example since you're now a higher rank at Hogwarts," he turned to the shortest of the three, "Hermione, Ron doesn't have to tell you where he's been because he might have a good reason for it. Now can we go, please?"

"...Yes," the two said.

_"Thank_ you."


	2. Stare

**Thank you all for the genuine feedback for the first chapter. It means a lot! :}**

* * *

><p>"Will you <em>stop<em> looking at him?" Hermione whispered sternly. Professor Dumbledore was giving his usual introductory speech and all Harry had been doing was staring at Malfoy.

"Honestly, Harry, either go over and snog him or listen to Dumbledore," agreed Ginny, siding with her female companion.

Cringing at the visual, Harry reluctantly turned back around. He wanted to come up with a retort. To say that everything that came out of Dumbledore's mouth was just a rerun because he was already informed of this. He knew about Slughorn, his suspicions were confirmed when Snape had been announced as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher-much to the pleasure of the Slytherins-and if he's heard it once, he's heard it a thousand times. The First Years were given a specific set of rules and warnings after the Sorting, the upper classmen getting reminders, and then it was time to eat.

Ron stuffed his plate with mountains of food, while Hermione watched him with pure disdain. Harry picked more reasonably, but then again he was a Quidditch player and he had to eat. Come to think of it, if he wasn't active, Harry would most likely be as thin as he was five years ago, Pre-Hogwarts. The Quidditch diet helped with his weight, beforehand he didn't eat as much as the average growing boy, and he was able to gain a healthy amount of muscle.

"Ginny?"

Harry looked up as Neville got the latter's attention.

"The next time the Slug Club has a meeting...I-I'll sit by Slughorn if you want," he offered, and Harry smiled in his pumpkin juice. He had really warmed up to Neville and considered him a true, loyal friend. If fate had been altered, Neville could have bore the burden of the scar on Harry's forehead.

Neville may have it, if not worse, than Harry. Starting off at Hogwarts, he had no friends and was constantly made fun of because of his weight and clumsiness. Throughout the years, however, there were some improvements; he grew taller, which made the fat roll off. He gained a little more confidence over time. When he was teased his roommates, including Harry and Ron, were quick to send looks; but he also stood up for himself.

Now, with his hair down and curly like he had it in their Fourth Year, Neville regarded Ginny with a sheepish look. Both he and Harry knew she was close to snapping, if possibly maiming, earlier.

"Thanks, Neville, but I'm fine," said Ginny. "But if you can keep me away from Zabini as far as possible, I'm all yours."

Neville blushed, smiled, and nodded at his redheaded friend. When he smiled, he never did it all the way because he was self-conscious of his teeth. He was more comfortable around Harry and the rest of his roommates. Girls naturally made him nervous, even if only three genuinely talk to him.

"Harry," said Hermione, and his gaze flickered to her, "Ron and I have Prefect duty after this so..."

"Don't worry about it," said Harry. "You two do your job. I'll wait up."

"Must you be tired?"

"Not really." Hermione just stared at him. "Really. There's no rush. You can even come by our dormitory if you'd like."

Ron did a spit take. "Come by our _what?!"_

"Well apparently, I'm not wanted around here," Hermione regarded him curtly before turning her attention back on Harry. "Harry, you know the rules."

"The rules say that boys can't go into your dormitories-and we physically cannot go in. It doesn't say anything about the other way around. You can come in."

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip, quiet for a bit. Then, she said finally, "Alright. Only for a moment."

Harry grinned in triumph.

.

"Can you believe this year's turn-out?" sneered Pansy Parkinson.

"You mean the First Years or the fat arse we're supposed to call our Potions teacher?" commented Blaise from his seat by the fire.

It was a slow night, and the prime Slytherins lounged about themselves. Draco Malfoy sat in silence, staring unblinking into the golden flames that licked the air. His friends were starting to get concerned. They weren't used to this quiet Draco. His behavior unnerved them.

"What do you think, Draco?" Pansy drawled lazily. Did he respond? Of course not. "Draco?"

He finally answered after the umpteenth time. _"What?"_

"What's wrong with you?" demanded Blaise.

Draco sighed. He knew what was wrong. And Pansy knew too. They were his best friends. Crabbe and Goyle were the dunderheads who followed him around for show; to scare off those who dared. Those who were new.

Pansy Parkinson had been Draco's first girlfriend at Hogwarts, and they were on and off for years; they were the obvious couple, the Slytherin Prince and the Slytherin Princess. They were both naive and cruel in their youth. Feelings matured, and they grew apart on a romantic level. Fifth Year was awkward, but they got passed that patch in their relationship and decided to stay friends because they worked better that way, and despite what everyone believed, Pansy could be sweet if she wanted to. She just had a shell that you had to get through yourself. And Draco valued her as a true friend.

The story behind Blaise Zabini was limited, depending on who you ask. He was a quiet Slytherin, Italian, and had a beautiful shade of dark mocha skin. His most contributing factor would be the cut in his left eye, showing from the right side if you looked at him; just a small space between that eyebrow where hair never grew. (Most likely, it was from a duel or fight of some kind). Like Pansy, even if he was naturally a jerk, he was still a loyal friend. The two, unlike Crabbe and Goyle, Draco thought were the only ones he could talk on a deep level with. Crabbe and Goyle would just stare stupidly.

The youngest Malfoy had a load on his plate this Year, and it was only a matter of time until his deadline approached. Every decision he made until then counted against him.

His hand ghosted over his forearm. The Mark wasn't there yet. _Yet_. But the empty presence of it still burned through his skin. It will be there regardless, whether he wanted it to or not. Did he even want to? Was darkness really in his heart? Was he born with it? Nurtured by prejudice and lies that he grown into believing?

Draco was a troubled soul, but he was no fool.

"Probably has to do with Potter," teased Pansy. "They were making lovey eyes at each other the entire dinner."

"Are you seriously doing this while I'm still in the room?" Draco interjected.

"HE SPEAKS!" both Pansy and Blaise exclaim.

"Thought we lost you there, mate," said Blaise.

Draco rolled his eyes. "For once I don't talk, and it's all of a sudden a bloody crime. How genuine of you."

"Well, when you're quiet, you're doing either two things," Pansy held up two manicured fingers, ticking them off as she went on, "plotting, or moping. What's going on in that blonde head of yours?" She walked around the arm of the plush green couch, plopping down next to him.

"More so the latter. Though the former might be slightly overdue." Draco's grin turned sinister.

Blaise snorted.

"Amused, Blaise?" Draco addressed him coolly. "Pansy told me about your little spat with the Weaslette. Have a thing for blood traitors now? And to think you could sink no lower..."

"And we all know how hard you are to please!" Pansy added.

"I liked you better when you didn't talk," Blaise grumbled, then said aloud, "Besides, I have no interest in the Weasley peasant. I would never touch a blood traitor, much less a mudblood. What is she to me?"

"This is why I don't have girlfriends," Pansy groaned. "You talk about girls like they're trash. And it drives them away. So thanks."

"You're welcome," said Draco. "Beside the point here, we're talking about the Weaslette. She's no girl, so she doesn't count."

"Neither is that mudblood, Granger," said Blaise, lifting his head. "Potter's girl."

_"Potter?"_ Draco spat.

"Like you two could mingle with Potter's posse."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Boys, boys, boys," Pansy shook her head, sitting up straighter. "You have a lot to learn. No wonder girls won't go out with you." She received dark looks for that one but continued anyway. "Everybody knows who we are-well, duh, I mean look at us. We're the Slytherins. You know, the baddy-baddies, the House that spawns evil-doers and hell-goers. Let's prove these bitches _wrong!"_

Draco and Blaise exchanged glances.

"I'm listening," said Draco.

.

"Where are you lot going?" asked Harry as he pulled a blue t-shirt over his head.

His roommates paused in the door frame, looking suspicious enough as it is, and slowly turned around. Ron was the head of the group; they, like Harry, were clad in their pajamas.

Harry had a good feeling why they decided to leave all of a sudden. Ron had barely been there for five minutes, because of Prefect duty, and now he was leaving with them. What were they going on about?

"Uuh...out?" said Ron lamely.

"Out where?" said Harry.

"To...er..."

Harry arched an eyebrow.

"Bye, Harry!" The teens exclaimed, running out of their room in a stumbling mess.

Harry just shook his head. He loved his roommates like brothers, but they fail at being subtle. They were just leaving before-

_Knock knock knock_

"Harry?"

-_before_ Hermione arrived.

Harry ran his fingers a couple times through his hair subconsciously to make it look more tousled than usual, walking around the laundry basket to reach the door. He took a slight breath, a simple in and out movement of his chest, and opened the door.

His best friend stood there with a confused smile on her face, and he knew that she must have ran into them on her way up.

He took notice of her pajamas. One of the many things he loved about Hermione that set her apart from the other girls was that she dressed comfortably. Not trying to impress people, pretending to be someone that she's not. She wore a Gryffindor tee shirt and white pajama pants with polka dots on them; and her hair, mildly wet, was tied back into a French braid.

"Hi there," said Harry for starters.

"Hi," said Hermione. "Um...do you know why...?" She started to point over her shoulder with her thumb, but Harry was already taking said hand and pulling her inside.

"Don't ask, just come in."

Hermione giggled, and cast a look around the Boys' Dormitory. It was different than the Girls' Dormitory, her sense of smell first picking up the lack of perfume and hair products. Not that there was anything wrong with her roommates, but she was more acquainted with the current environment she was in.

Harry watched her face. The pleasant look on her face amused him. "Not what you expected?"

Hermione looked over at him, amusement dancing in her eyes as well. "No. But in a good way."

He went to go sit on his bed, and she followed him as if it was a normal thing for them. Harry climbed in, leaving room for her to slide in next to him and get situated.

"So how was your first patrol?" said Harry, folding his hands together on his lap.

Hermione grimaced. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

* * *

><p><strong>Next chapter, we find out what happened on Hermione's first night patrol. You wouldn't wanna miss it!<strong>


	3. Draco Learns a Lesson

**I honestly had no idea this story would get so much positive feedback! Thank you all so SO much for keeping this fresh story alive. :}**

* * *

><p><em>"I can't believe I'm doing this with...with <em>him_!" Hermione grumbled to herself out loud, walking as far away to the left as the empty corridor will allow from her permanent partner for the Year._

_"Well you wouldn't crack my top ten, Granger," Draco sneered, appearing as unhappy as she felt._

_Hermione walked stiffly, reminding herself that it was only a matter of a few mere hours she had to share with Malfoy, for the good of the school, and then she could go back to Gryffindor Tower, where Harry was waiting for her. The thought of her raven haired friend gave her a boost of confidence. If he could face Voldemort, there was no sense of not saying his name now, then surely the bookworm could walk around with the school bully._

_Did Hermione truly think that Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater? Logically, it would make sense, since his entire bloodline was in the family business. But personally, she didn't like to dwell on it too much. And as a result, she often relied on her mind to get through situations and thought processes._

_Sometimes she wondered why she wasn't in Ravenclaw instead of Gryffindor. She asked herself that in the beginning, sometimes even now. But it was friendship, bravery, and loyalty that had her stick by Harry all these years. That's what made her who she was._

_"We'll cover more ground if we-" Hermione started, using her professional, know-it-all voice._

_"Split up? You're just scared of being alone with me," snarked Draco with a smug grin on his face._

_And Hermione wanted to wipe it clean off._

_She turned on him with fire in her eyes as she lifted up her right fist; at the sight of the limb, Draco's smile automatically faltered, much to her genuine pleasure. "I _will_ use this," she threatened him._

_Draco nodded once, a sheepish hold on his mouth as he inclined his back away from her. Seeing that he wasn't going to be smart with her, she lowered her hand and stepped back._

_As she started off again down the corridor, she heard, "You've got an impressive right hook there."_

_The bookworm whirled around, caramel curls whipping around in her face. _"What?"

_"Granger, I complimented you once. I'm not doing it again."_

_That was...odd._

_"How...thoughtful of you," she said finally._

_"This is the part where you _thank_ me."_

_"I would if your compliment was sincere!"_

_Draco snorted._

_"What's the catch?" Her eyes narrowed in suspicion._

_"No catch."_

_"You're lying."_

_"Y-"_

_"People like you sugar up to people when they want something, so what is it?"_

_"Like me? And a teenage girl like yourself doesn't?" _

_He was avoiding the question._

_"Oh, you're just now noticing that I'm a girl?"_

_"Granger, please. Every bloke around here noticed Third Year. Including that saint _Potter_ and the Weasle." He spat Harry's name like he usually does, but regardless it brought an angry blush to Hermione's cheeks. She opened her mouth, then closed it again repeatedly, speechless, like a fish out of water. "Surprised, Miss Know-It-All?" Draco mocked._

_Hermione's lips were now white from the pressure she was exerting._

_"Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to continue our shift-_partner_. I have better things to attend to than stand here wasting time."_

_Hermione was quick to open her mouth again for a retort, but realized he was right. He walked ahead of her, and she squinted her eyes and shook her head, making small grabby motions at his back in a choking manner._

_._

Harry's lips quivered.

"You want to laugh," Hermione deadpanned, and quiet laughter escaped him. She slapped his arm and exclaimed, "You're laughing at me!"

"I'm not laughing at _you_-!"

"Come off it, yes you are!"

"No I'm not!"

"You are!"

"...Well, yeah."

Hermione's mouth dropped in disbelief, but she couldn't stop smiling. Still guffawing, Harry pulled her in for a side hug, squeezing her shoulder. And, knowing she couldn't stay mad, or even remotely annoyed with him, she sighed and relaxed, curling into his side.

"So to sum it all up, Malfoy is your partner and he complimented you?"

"It wasn't sincere," Hermione added.

"It wasn't sincere," echoed Harry. "Okay. He's being nice to you, or attempting to and failing miserably."

"Right."

"And you don't know how you feel about it, but it makes you feel uncomfortable because-because it's-"

"_Weird_," the two said in harmony.

"Exactly," said Hermione. "What do you think I should do, Harry? I mean..." She licked her lips, sitting up straight so she could look directly into his green orbs. "I know it's a trick but..."

"But you also want to be a little easy on him, even if he is a two-faced arse."

"...I didn't say that."

"But you were thinking it," said Harry, grinning at her. "Weren't you?"

Hermione grasped his shoulders and shook him. "Ha-_rry_!"

"I'm joking, I'm joking," said Harry. "Just...think of it as an experiment."

"An experiment?"

"Yeah. A school assignment..." continued Harry artfully. "...that Professor Potter has assigned to you, Miss Granger," he gripped her arms, "your mission, should you choose to accept it-"

Hermione couldn't stop smiling and giggling, not being able to do one without the other. Even if Harry was being serious, he made it fun just to see her smile.

"-think of it as a character analysis. You're brilliant at jotting stuff down in your head," finished Harry. He looked at the time. "It's almost midnight."

"Oh, I should leave. You need your rest for tomorrow, Captain," said Hermione, sliding out of his bed and ruffling his hair as she did so. He didn't want her to leave just yet, but at the same time his body functions were slowing down considerably, throwing out large hints that he needed to sleep.

Harry bolted. "Wait, what? How did you know about Quidditch tryouts? How did you know I was made captain?"

"Because you just told me."

It was Harry's turn to gawk.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh please, Harry. I'm Hermione Granger. I know _everything_."

.

"So?" Pansy demanded as soon as Draco entered. "How did it go?"

Draco scoffed, taking a seat on the couch.

"That bad?" said Blaise.

"Granger wasn't part of the deal," said Draco coolly.

Pansy fought a smirk. "Did you at least play nice like you promised you would?"

"...Unfortunately."

"Don't be a baby. We all will be officially starting tomorrow," said Pansy.

"Yipee," the boys chorused in a monotone.

.

"Nothing happened?" asked Ron in disbelief.

"What were you expecting to happen, Ron?" said Harry.

Ron didn't meet his eyes. "Nothing."

Harry knew that was a lie.

The two were walking down the corridor, on their way to the Great Hall for breakfast the following morning. Harry wondered where Hermione was? She, if not always, walked with them to breakfast, lunch, and dinner most of the time. It was strange, not seeing her face before the day began. A peculiar feeling indeed.

Luckily, however, he didn't have to go as far as worried. The bookworm had beat them to it, already sitting at her usual spot at the Gryffindor table; she was one of the first being there, already taking a sip of pumpkin juice as she read today's edition of The Daily Prophet.

Relieved, Harry went to go sit next to her. Hermione looked up just as he sat, the two sharing warm smiles. She looked well-rested, no sign of bags underneath her eyes, her cheeks flushed and healthy.

The two were so caught up in each other's attention that they didn't notice Ron sit down, nor the glowering in their direction.

"Nothing, eh?" said Ron.

Harry snapped out of it, turning in his seat to face the ginger. "Sorry?"

"I rest my case."

"What is he going on about now?" said Hermione.

"Ron is under the impression that you and I did something last night," said Harry.

"Well..." said Hermione innocently. "We _were_ alone for hours. A lot can happen between two people in that amount of time..."

Ron's eyes continued to widen as she spoke, much to Harry's dark amusement.

He wanted to make it worse.

"And you _were_ in my bed..." said Harry, winking at her. "I wasn't complaining."

Ron started coughing violently, causing his two best friends to burst out laughing.

"Ha, ha," Ron gave them a dirty look.

.

"Frowning causes wrinkles, boys," Pansy reminded them. A poor little First Year accidentally bumped into her on his way to class; she whirled around and barked, "WATCH WHERE I'M GOING!"

"Pansy..." Draco mocked. "Remember when we talked about being _nice_ to others?"

"Oh shut up."

Blaise snickered.

"Funny?" Pansy pursed her lips, then spotted someone familiar; a fiery mane of hair. "Why don't you go and say hi to the Weaslette then, Blaise? I bet she'll _love_ it."

Blaise growled something unintelligent just as said girl was heading in their direction.

Ginny was just about to pass the silver trio when Blaise, inwardly cringing, grabbed a hold of her elbow and pulled her back.

Ginny took one sharp look at the limb that she was now willing to burn, then back up to glare at the tall, dark male.

"Weasley," he sneered.

"Zabini," she replied just as coldly, ripping her arm out of his grip.

"Where's your friend?"

"What friend? I have tons. What's it to you? If you're thinking about doing something horrible then I'll hex you into next week."

"What's got your knickers in a bunch? All I wanted to know was whether or not you've seen those two..._people_ you hang around."

"If you're talking about Neville and Luna, no, I haven't seen them. And even if I did, it wouldn't be any of your business," Ginny huffed. "Now get out of my way. I'm late for class."

Blaise bit down hard on his lip as she shoved passed him, closing his eyes and counting backwards from ten to calm himself down.

"Damn," said Pansy.

"Sucks to be you," said Draco.

"Well, I'm gonna go find a nerd," said Pansy. "See you later."

The boys mumbled their goodbyes as the female of the group left. Draco separated himself from Blaise a bit after that because he had "unfinished business" and Blaise didn't even have to question him.

Where was the bloody loon?

Draco impatiently tapped the column he casually leaned against. How hard was it to find one of Potter's follow-?

"Hello, Draco," a dreamy voice caressed his eardrums. "You look dreadful."

_...Well speak of the blonde devil._

Draco slowly turned his head, jaw clenched as he met the wide, silvery gaze of Luna Lovegood. She was a lot shorter than him, more than he realized, and she had her wand tucked in her hair to keep it up.

"Sorry I didn't exceed your expectations," his response was automatic, and he winced at how icy it sounded.

Luna seemed unfazed. "It's alright. I don't expect any less. I can see why you're stressed. Wrackspurts are everywhere."

And then, to weird him out even further, she began swatting the air as if there were bugs in the air. Draco was seething.

"Good holiday?" he forced out through gritted teeth.

Again, Luna didn't react to his rude tone. "It was nice."

He wanted to bang his head against the wall until his ears bled. And he already started to follow through with his actions, turning on his heels and bumping his head against the column.

"Hitting your head won't get rid of the wrackspurts, Draco."

And then she was invading his personal space, taking his face in her small hands, coaxing him to look down at her as she leaned up on her tiptoes. Draco's entire body tensed. Why did he agree to this? Why did it have to be with _her_?

"You must have a clear head and a balanced mind," Luna continued casually, lowering her hands and her heels as she stood to her full height. "That's what Daddy has told me. I find it rather difficult because, well, my head is normally off in the clouds, you see. I understand why people think I'm ditzy. I am, so I don't get bothered by it."

_"Why?"_ Draco blurted out.

"Pardon?"

"_Why_ are you so okay with everything? _Why_ do you let us taunt and tease you? _Why don't you ever get worked up?!"_

Luna blinked for the first time during the entire conversation. "Do you want me to get worked up?"

"Yes!" Draco threw his arms out. "It wouldn't make you less human!"

The dirty blonde smiled gently, which added fuel to his fire.

"You know, Draco, the reason why I don't express my anger like my friends do is simple-you and your friends and your Slytherin peers were raised upon stereotypes. You were taught to hate and judge anyone different than you. And that's why we're at war. Because You-Know-Who fears Harry because he couldn't kill him the first time and he knows Harry is the only wizard alive who is able to defeat him."

"Of course." Draco's lips pulled over his teeth. "Because _Potter's_ so _perfect_."

"This brings me to my next point. I know the story behind you and Harry's first meeting. You were quick to befriend him, but he turned you down and chose Ronald instead. Ever since then, you've been jealous, and that's why you've been such a bully to Harry and anyone who's friends with him. You take your anger and other nasty feelings out on the rest of us because you didn't get what you wanted. And because you're a Malfoy, a man with a strong bloodline, you're the Slytherin Prince. All of the Slytherins look up to you. They follow you, Draco. You're a great leader...but you just make poor choices."

Draco was rendered speechless.

"I must get to class," said Luna. "I hope you can shake off the wrackspurts, Draco. They can be hard to rid of."

And that's where she left him, dumbfounded in the courtyard, right as it just started to rain.


	4. Thoughts and Concerns

**ALL OF THESE FAVES, FOLLOWS, AND REVEIWS ARE NO T GOOD FOR MY HEALTH.**

**Thank you all so, SO much!**

* * *

><p>"So...he didn't try to hurt you or anything?" said Harry.<p>

"Not even a little?" prodded Ron.

"No," said Luna simply. "Why would he?"

Harry wasn't the only one who saw Luna Lovegood talking to Draco Malfoy as if it wasn't out of the ordinary. But then again, that's what Luna was. Those characteristics made her special.

Everyone who was in Harry's, well, "group"-this includes Harry himself, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville-saw all what they needed, even if they were just glimpses. Harry knew Luna could take care of herself; they all could. But he had a strange protectiveness over the petite blonde; she had been, in fact, his only friend for a period of time the previous Year, when he isolated himself from everyone. Luna just gets him, in a way that no one else does.

At her nonchalant statement, the Golden Trio exchanged glances, Ginny's eyes narrowed, and Neville appeared genuinely worried.

"Er, no offense, Luna," said Ron finally, "but what the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

"Draco asked me something along those lines too," Luna replied, tucking a golden strand of hair behind her ear. "He seemed upset about something."

"You don't say."

"What _Ronald's_ trying to say is," said Hermione, giving Ron a dark look before facing the other girl, "we're just wondering why you would talk to him. Please don't take any offense to this, I know you mean well, Luna. It's just that...-"

"All day the Slytherins have been acting weird around us," Ginny finished, and Neville nodded.

"Weird how?" said Harry.

"Malfoy and Luna are suddenly talking, Parkinson yelled at Daphne Greengrass for talking bad about Neville, and Zabini had the nerve to ask me about the weather," Ginny ticked off her fingers as she ranted, fixing up her face as Blaise's name fell from her lips, as if she tasted a sour lemon.

"Wait, wait, slow down," said Ron. _"Zabini?"_

"Zabini," Ginny grumbled, nodding her head.

"_Parkinson_ defended you?" said Hermione, and Neville nodded as if he still couldn't believe it either.

"She did," Neville said to her. "I guess she was close enough to hear what they were saying. I would've kept walking. I'm used to it, but...she just surprised me, is all. And before she left, she...she smiled at me."

"Smiled?"

"Yeah, like an actual little smile. I got an odd feeling in my stomach and I walked away from her. Was that rude?"

Hermione smiled at her friend, giving his hand a reassuring pat. "I don't think so. It's understandable that you got nervous."

Harry watched each conversation unfold, taking each into consideration. Ginny was uncomfortable, Hermione was uncomfortable, and Luna was debatable. He already had defensive feelings over each of them as it is, but with all of them together had his mind reeling.

"Harry?" said Hermione. His gaze gradually drifted up from the table to meet hers. "Are you alright?"

"That's your thinking face," said Ron, pointing at him with a spreading grin plastering across his freckly face. "I like where this is going, mate. What are you thinking?"

"No," said Hermione before Harry could speak, the latter now fighting a smile of his own. _"No_. Absolutely not."

"But you didn't even know what I was going to say, Hermione," said Harry.

"I don't have to," said Hermione, giving him a look, and he couldn't help but chuckle. Of course she did. Harry may say one thing, but she knew what he was thinking. "Ginny. Luna, and I can take care of ourselves."

"That's right!" Ginny piped up, nose pointed up in the air.

"I think it's nice that Harry is concerned, but she is right," said Luna, staring into space, wondering now about whether or not Draco had gotten rid of the wrackspurts.

"You lot are no fun," Ron huffed, crossing his arms.

"H-Hey, I don't want any trouble..." Neville held up his hands innocently.

_"Harry,"_ Hermione enunciated.

_"Hermione,"_ mocked Harry, loving the way her nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed, cheeks flushed and lips pressed in a thin line. He wasn't worried, because he knows that she can't stay mad at him forever.

Before Hermione could open her mouth for a retort, a soft, timid voice had the group silent.

"Er, hi...I couldn't help but overhear..."

Tensing up a bit, Harry turned in his seat to look up into the beautiful face that belonged to Cho Chang. He hadn't talked to her at all since their disaster date the previous Year, and their relationship became so awkward that they didn't talk anymore. Cho was also one of many who thought that he and Hermione were an item.

And she's changed a lot since he had last seen her...which might have been that day? The Seventh Year student sported a layered haircut with brown highlights, and her eyes were actually tearless. Her hesitation was easy to note first as she approached their table, twiddling her fingers.

Harry didn't have to turn to tell that Hermione looked as tense as he felt. But what surprised him was the unexpected action of Hermione subtly brushing his hand with her own. He relaxed at her touch, but it didn't stop the nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Don't you think you should mind your own-?" Ron began before Hermione kicked him in the shin, and hard. He yelped, grasping at the injured skin, and hung his head in silent agony.

"Er, Cho. Hi." Harry mentally kicked himself. "How are you?"

Cho appreciatively smiled in his direction. "Better. Did you all have a good holiday?"

Harry nodded for the group since no one bothered to say anything.

"Can we help you with something?" said Hermione warily.

"Cho tends to overhear a lot of things," Luna explained lightly, smiling in her friend's direction. "You mustn't blame her for just being curious or even wanting to be involved. I would, if I were her, and I heard people talking about interesting things."

A sudden look came over Hermione that Harry was the first to notice, their eyes meeting in the briefest of moments before she met Ron's gaze as well. Luna's statement reminded Harry of...well, Hermione. She had no friends and only wanted to fit in.

And now it seemed like Cho had the same life now. She was friendless, since her so-called 'friends' ditched her because she never really did 'get over' Cedric's death and was emotional about everything. The only person who ever genuinely talked to her was Luna Lovegood herself.

"Cho, a word?" said Hermione suddenly, getting to her feet.

"Sure," Cho stammered, and Harry watched the two girls leave the library with a worried look on his face.

"I bet you ten Galleons that they're not going to have just 'a word'," said Ron, holding up air-quotations with his fingers.

"Since when do you have 'ten Galleons'?" Ginny retorted, holding up her own fingers, and the gang laughed.

.

Harry was anxious. Hermione, now gone for almost a full hour, hadn't returned yet. Under the table, he drummed his fingers on his knees in a miscellaneous pattern. What was keeping her? He hoped everything was alright...

"Don't worry. They'll be here in a minute," said Ron, engulfing a huge spoonful of red jello.

Harry's eyes narrowed blankly. "If Hermione were here, she would smack you with one of her books."

"Good thing you're not Hermione, eh mate?" Ron joked.

Harry slowly revealed the book that she had let him borrow, maintaining a poker face while Ron's eyes widened. "Want to bet?"

Just then, Hermione and Cho finally appeared at the Great Hall entrance, saving Ron from a potential beating. To the boys' shock, Hermione gave Cho's arm a gentle squeeze, and the two shared a conservative smile before parting ways.

"I don't understand you women," said Ron as Hermione sat down across from them. "One minute you bloody hate each other, and the next you're all...girly and..."

"First of all, I never hated her. And second of all, what Cho and I do is not up to you," Hermione corrected him.

"Hermione?" Harry leaned closer. "Have you been..._crying?"_

"What?" Hermione grabbed the nearest spoon to look at her reflection. Her skin was blotchy around her cheeks, eyes red-rimmed. "O-oh! That's nothing. Nothing at all..."

Harry didn't buy it. "Hermione..."

"Er, Harry?" Ron pointed. "Should we be concerned?"

Both Harry and Hermione whipped their heads around just in time to see Luna approach the Slytherin table.

.

"Hello, Draco."

Draco, his back to her, looked to Pansy and Blaise helplessly. All they did was snigger in their plates.

"Were you able to get rid of the wrackspurts?"

Draco gritted his teeth. "Mhm."

"That's nice."

"Mhm."

"Draco!" Pansy slapped his arm, then turned around to look at the blonde. "Won't you sit down?"

"Certainly," Luna replied, and Draco was forced to make room for her next to him. He got uncomfortable rather quickly. He didn't like the closer proximities her new seat provided, and he _really_ didn't like the way she was looking at him...

.

"This can't be good..." murmured Harry.

"What do we do?" muttered Ron.

"...Nothing," said Hermione, receiving judging looks for that one. "We do nothing."

"Nothing?" said Harry.

She shook her head. "Nothing."

_At least not yet._


	5. Sleepwalkers and Invisible People

**I'm just gonna skip the teary thank you's and start passing out cupcakes. Sorry about the longer gap! I love you all :]**

* * *

><p>"Harry?"<p>

Harry looked up as Hermione walked up to him, pausing a moment from his essay. "Hmm?"

"Sorry if I'm...disturbing you or anything-" began Hermione.

"Don't worry, Hermione," reassured Harry.

She smiled down at him, then gestured towards the couch. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all."

While Hermione got comfortable, Harry shuffled his papers and books aside for her to sit. To start small talk, he asked, "Able to make the Quidditch practice, are you? I'd feel loads better knowing you were there in the stands."

"Of course! I wouldn't miss it," said Hermione, adding with a playful shove,_ "Captain."_

Harry laughed, pushing her back with the same amount of playfulness, and their harmonized laughter soon dies down as they both get situated again. Hermione opened her book in her lap, tucking her legs up on the side of the couch, slightly brushing against Harry as she did.

"You do realize that Slughorn expects us to be at every party he throws, right?" she broke the silence after a while.

"I do," said Harry without looking up from his parchment. "Do _you_ realize your birthday is exactly a week after Quidditch?"

Hermione froze. "What?"

"I said, do you realize-?"

"N-no, I mean, I heard what you said..." Hermione mentally counted backwards and forwards, mildly ticking off her fingers. How could she have lost track of time so quickly?

A smile twitched at Harry's mouth as he continued to write. "Anything in mind, have you?"

She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it, then opened her mouth again; she was rendered speechless.

"Hermione Jean Granger," teased Harry in a mocking, scolding voice. "Did you forget your own birthday?"

"Oh goodness!" Hermione ran her fingers through her untamed curls, now becoming distressed. "I forgot my own seventeenth birthday! How _could_ I be so _stu_pid?" She threw her book down and got up from her seat abruptly. Her actions, however, took a turn on her, and she was quick to get lightheaded.

Harry was there to catch her mid-sway, hand wrapping around her elbow; his free arm wrapped around her waist to steady her. Befuddled, Hermione opened her eyes, realizing that she was indirectly using Harry's chest as a cushion.

"Wotcher there," said Harry.

"Mm...oh wow. Did I just...?"

Harry laughed, gradually loosening his hold on her. "Yes."

"Wonderful." She closed her eyes again, slumping against him.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"You can open your eyes now."

"I don't want to."

"Why not?"

"I'm afraid the world is still spinning."

He smiled down at her. "Yeah? It does that."

"Don't get smart with me, Harry."

The two started laughing just as Ron walked in the room. The youngest Weasley male took one look at his best friends and began smirking.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Harry and Hermione were quick to separate, Harry snatching his arms away and Hermione taking a large step to the right.

"And just where have you been?" Hermione demanded, crossing her arms.

"Who are you, Mum?" Ron laughed at the dark look she sent in his direction. "I was just with Cho."

Hermione blinked. "Sorry?"

"Yeah. Ran into her on my way here. Don't worry, I wasn't a git."

"You sure _she_ didn't think so?"

"Shut up, Harry."

Harry grinned. "How is she?"

Ron visibly stiffened. "...Was I supposed to ask?"

* * *

><p>"When you talk to a girl, you're supposed to be<em> nice<em>, Ronald," Hermione was lecturing to Ron, an amused Harry trailing behind on their way to the Quidditch field. "Say hello, ask how she is doing, compliment her genuinely, point out the small things that she would think no one notices..."

"You act like it's so simple," Ron grumbled.

Harry sped up his walking, coming up on the other side of Hermione. "Oh hello there, Hermione, how are you?" he played along, grasping her hand and lifting it up to his mouth to kiss the back. Hermione giggled at his antics and he continued without breaking stride, "I think you look rather pretty today." He pulled her close to sniff her hair. "Are you using a new flavor of shampoo?" Harry winked. "It's really working for you."

Ron gave Harry a pointed look while he and Hermione laughed.

"I don't see anything hard about that," said Harry.

"One, it's _Hermione_," Ron ticked off his fingers. "Two, it's _you_, and three-it's _the bloody both of you!" _They stared at him blankly. "In case you lot have forgotten,_ I don't know her._ We're not even friendly friends!"

"...Friendly friends?" Harry and Hermione repeated.

"You know what I mean!" Ron gave them an exasperated look. "I'm not trying to ask her out or anything. I don't even fancy her!"

"That may be true but what Hermione is trying to tell you is that a simple action can effect a person. You don't even have to say a word. Just smile whenever you see her in the corridors. Don't stare. I've learned that girls don't like it that much."

"Thank you, Harry," a touched Hermione said.

"You're welcome," said Harry in a softer tone.

"Harry! 'Bout time you lot showed up. McLaggen was just-" Ginny started as she approached them, stopping midsentence as well as her stepping.

All of a sudden, she started smirking.

"McLaggen?" an oblivious, concerned Hermione said, frowning deeply.

The Weasleys exchanged knowing glances, smiles still present on their freckly faces.

"Funny they have yet to notice," Ron addressed his little sister, and she snickered.

"Notice what?" said Harry, looking around.

It was then when he finally looked down, seeing that his hand was still occupied, warm and laced with Hermione's. The bookworm followed his gaze, her eyes widening a bit before their eyes met.

Much like the day before, they were quick to separate. Ducking his head and murmuring something about him and his team getting in the air, Harry walked away with flushed cheeks and a tingling hand.

What he didn't see was Hermione's reaction, which had mirrored his own. Her cheeks went the faintest of pink, she holding her own hand as she headed towards the stands, occasionally looking back.

Her own hand that still tingled.

At the mention of McLaggen, Harry automatically kicked him off the field. Depending on who is asked, it could be taken literally or figuratively.

Regardless, McLaggen never showed up again, but he would try to corner Hermione after practice was over. This brought out the protectiveness of Ron and especially Harry. McLaggen would barely get out a complete sentence and Harry would come around the corner, silencing him with a dangerous look in his green eyes; by the time Harry towed Hermione off the field, the Weasley siblings gave McLaggen their death glares before finally exiting as well.

"Harry, your inner boyfriend is showing," Ginny teased under her breath, and it took all of Harry's control to not come up with a sarcastic remark.

Later, when they were all eating dinner in the Great Hall, Hermione turned to Harry, who had barely touched his spaghetti.

"I can take care of myself, you know," she said to him quietly, cupping her cheek in her palm.

He sighed, angling himself towards her. "I know. I just don't like him."

"I don't either."

"That's a relief."

They smiled at each other.

"How have your meetings been going with Dumbledore?" asked Hermione, now using her fork to stir around his spaghetti. He didn't mind it when she rolled up the noodles and lifted the fork to her mouth; her actions distracted him momentarily.

"Alright," said Harry, shrugging his shoulders. "He's been showing me some memories from the Pensieve but-" he paused, opening his mouth as she lifted her fork to feed him, chewing and swallowing the delicious food down before continuing, "I think he wants me to get closer to Slughorn."

"Why?" asked Hermione, her lips parting to so he could do the same.

"Something about getting a memory," said Harry.

"Hm..." Hermione hummed in thought as she chewed. "It's Dumbledore, so I reckon this memory must be important if it's going to help you into defeating You-Know-Who." She took a sip of her pumpkin juice.

"I reckon so too. Slughorn was teaching when my Mum and Dad were here. Chances are he was here when Voldemort was too."

"Right."

They took turns feeding each other-as well as trying to steal food off the other's plate-before it was time to go. Harry returned to the Common Room with Ron and Hermione went to go get ready for her patrol. Before she went, she made sure she got her hugs from both of them.

* * *

><p>Drago met up with Hermione at their usual spot.<p>

"Granger."

"Malfoy."

Giving each other nods, they headed down the first corridor in mutual silence, both absorbed in their own thoughts. Hermione noticed that he wasn't wearing his usual sneer, but a blank expression that she couldn't exactly decipher.

He shocked her when he broke the silence first.

"You know all those times I called you a Mudblood?"

She cautiously answered, "Yeah..?"

"I'm, er, sorry about...yeah."

She suddenly had the urge to laugh, and before she knew it, she _was_ laughing, and his look of confusion quickly turned into his infamous glare.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing...sorry...it's just..." Her laughter died down, and she brushed a tendril curl out of her face. "You...apologizing is..._mind-boggling._ It's strange hearing it from you."

"Good strange, bad strange...or Loony strange?" asked Draco, and Hermione had to giggle. They both erupted in uncharacteristically genuine laughter together, she slapping his arm and exclaiming, "_That's not nice!_"

Their laughter died down some, and Hermione said, "Luna falls into the good strange. There's more to her than you give her credit for. As for you..." She turned the corner, "I'm not sure about-..."

Hermione froze.

Draco nearly ran into her. "Granger, why in Salazar's name did you just stop in the middle of the damn-?"

"Shush!" Hermione hissed, grabbing him by the robes and pointing ahead. "Look _there_."

Draco obliged, drawing his wand. _"Lumos."_

Wands drawn, the Slytherin prince and the Gryffindor princess began following the pale silhouette that seemed to be drifting aimlessly through the corridors. Speeding up to get a good look at who it was, they were both a bit taken aback to say the least when they realized the mysterious figure was-

"Lovegood?"

Luna's stare was blank, swaying in her walk as if she was skipping. Hermione reached her side first, hand on the small girl's bare arm. "Luna? Luna, love?"

Luna made no sign of hearing her, and Draco helped hold her back from traveling another foot, maintaining a firm grip on her arm. "What the bloody hell is wrong with her?"

"Of course!" murmured Hermione to herself, then answered him, "She's sleepwalking."

"-_oh God_-Really?"

"Coming, Mother..." Luna sang, her voice soft and more dreamy-like than normal. Eerie. It sent shivers down Hermione's spine.

"Well go on-wake her up!"

"Quiet! I'm thinking..."

"Well, think faster!"

A flickering torch nearby wavered, and Hermione's gaze flickered in that direction. Something shimmered, and she narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Hang on..."

Hermione stalked towards the wall, and before she could grab at the air, she heard footsteps skid to the left.

Hermione lunged, barely missing, but she ran after the pair of black converse shoes she could now see that was desperate to get away from her, and smiled. With one last attempt, she jumped again, this time slamming into an invisible body and sending them both pummeling to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

The body was masculine, very much so, warm, and familiar. Huffing, she yanked the cloak down and a face popped out, his hair as untidy as ever and his green eyes up to mischief. "Harry!"

Harry smiled back up at her. "Hi there."

"_Potter_," Draco spat out of habit as the two walked back to where he stood with a squirming Luna.

"Pleasure to see you too," said Harry.

"What is he doing here? I should report him-"

"No, I bet Harry has a perfectly good reason to be out at this hour!" snapped Hermione. She pulled Harry a little to the side and clarified, "There _is_ a perfectly good reason to be out at this hour, right?"

"Yes, Dumbledore," whispered Harry, and they stood up straighter, she pleased with his answer.

"Must go to Mother, Daddy...must help..."

"I saw Luna so I began to follow her. Make sure she's alright," Harry told Draco. "She told me once that she tends to sleepwalk. That's why she wears shoes to bed-" He pointed to Luna's bare feet-"but it looks like _someone_ stole them again."

"...Why is he looking at me when when he's saying that?"

"Must help...must help Mother, Daddy..."

"Alright, how do we shut this bloody loon up?"

Hermione regarded him darkly as Harry thought.

"Say something that will snap her out of it. Make her go back to sleep."

"Why haven't _you_ done anything?"

"I have, but no matter what I say-"

"She won't wake!" Hermione sighed. "You try something."

"Me?" Draco deadpanned.

"Yes, you," said Harry.

"Be gentle," reminded Hermione.

Draco groaned. How he got himself in this situation, he hadn't a clue. He thought about what he could do, and settled for something..._nicer_. The Slytherin grasped Luna's arms, turning her to him, and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "_Luna_." It was as soft as a caress, yet made him want to vomit.

But it worked.

Luna stopped moving, her eyes fluttering. "_Draco_..." she whimpered his name, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as her body slackened, finally falling limp in his arms.

Fast asleep.


	6. It's Okay

**Hey hey hey! :] How's everybody's day goin'? Good? I hope so :}**

**Here's the next chapter; hope you liiike!**

* * *

><p>Harry woke up <em>screaming<em>.

Whipping and thrashing, his hands balling up tightly around his sheets; sweat dewing from head to toe, eyes bloodshot and hot from the tears that flowed down his pale cheeks. His roommates are already jolted awake, frightened and worried about their friend's outburst.

Ron was the first to reach Harry, arms wrapping around his friend from behind, and tightly, to keep him still; this only made it worse, because for a wild second Harry thought that his nightmare was reality, and that he was being held down by several Death Eaters at once -

"Harry!"

And then the Boys' Dormitory doors burst open, and Hermione ran inside, clad in her pajamas. Ron shot her a questioning look but let it go as she climbed into bed with them. Harry flailed wildly, and Hermione reached out to him, grasping his shoulders; her hands traveled to his face as she tried to get his attention.

"Harry! Harry! Harry, look at me! Shhh..."

His green eyes fell on hers, and they widened as he appraised her in shock. She was with him, actually with him, her hair in a messy bun, her pajamas simply put together like she always had them, and she still smelled like...like _her_. Hermione was here? How did she-?

"Shh..." Hermione shushed him in a soothing tone, caressing his face now. "Shh..."

Harry didn't realize he was still crying, because she was wiping his tears away with her thumbs.

"It's okay...it's _okay_..." she told him softly.

Harry was still, his chest still heaving as he continued to gaze into her eyes; Ron gradually began to let him go, and Neville, Seamus, and Dean backed away a step or two to give them space. Hermione pulled Harry close to her and he curled into her like a small child, seeking her warmth and comfort. Her _heartbeat_. His hands clenched around her sides, bunching up her shirt and causing it to ride up. The very scent of Hermione slowed his sobbing down until he stopped completely, and his hands moved to smooth down her backside, then back up again.

Hermione kissed the top of his head, running her fingers through his untidy locks. She wanted to cry because she hated seeing him like this. She knew he had nightmares but she didn't know it could get this bad. It worried her.

"How did you-?" It was barely audible, but she heard him.

She cupped his face, coaxing him to look at her. "Let's go downstairs."

Harry obliged, and the two left the room without looking back. He felt her eyes on him on the way down, but he didn't look at her. She held onto his arm and he didn't protest.

When they reached the Common Room, Harry sat on the couch in front of the fireplace, and Hermione got a fire going again before joining him.

"I woke up with a feeling that something was wrong," she whispered finally. "I knew something was urgent and...I had to get to you."

"Lucky you did. I thought you were dead." Even his own voice sounded off to him.

Hermione's eyes widened in fear. "Was...was your nightmare about...m-me?"

Harry nodded gravely.

"What...what happened-?"

"Hermione, please..." Harry begged desperately in a soft tone. "I don't want to talk about this right now."

Hermione studied his face closely, gradually nodding and deciding to let it go - for now. Scooting closer, she was starting to get hesitant all of a sudden. Should she touch him again? Would he want her to, or was she pushing the envelope? How close was too close at this point?

She's tired, very much so, but she's also worried for her best friend's well-being. If his nightmares were about her, then how often did they occur? Was it coincidental that she wasn't sleeping very well on the nights that _he_ didn't, or was she overthinking things?

Chewing down on her bottom lip, she tried to catch his eye first before she did anything else.

Harry, meanwhile, was lost in thought. Every train led back to the girl sitting next to him. These dreams started when he began going to lessons with Dumbledore; it's all too much of a coincidence. He was at a loss here. Voldemort's never met Hermione at all, face to face ( thank Merlin - the very thought made him shake ); but whatever connection he had with the darkest wizard of all time was the worst one - their minds. Harry could unintentionally drift from the present in Hogwarts, to a dark alley where he, in the eyes of Voldemort himself, interrogated a poor man. There was no filter, no privacy, nothing. Voldemort could be accessing Harry's mind right now and he would never know.

Did Hermione really occur those often in his thoughts. He thought about her and Ron around the same, but...something's different. Something's _definitely_ different. If it was the same, Ron would have been in that dream. If it was the same, even _Luna_ had the potential to show up in that dream. But she didn't.

It was Hermione. _It was always Hermione._

_Whatever does this mean? Blimey, I'm confused, _thought Harry. Voldemort is showing a sudden interest in Hermione and Harry doesn't like it. Not one bit.

He met her gaze. She was concerned. Confused. Frightened. Hesitant. Written all over her face. All over _him_; and he hated himself for it.

Sighing, Harry shifted back, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and began to press; coaxing her to lay down. The curiosity got the best of her, and she does anyway, wondering what he was trying to-

_Oh._

A very cautious arm draped across her stomach, and she curled into him instinctively. From behind, he closed his eyes and sniffed her hair. Having her close was good enough for him. For now.

Hermione let her hand fall gently on top of his hand, tracing his knuckles absentmindedly. What was he thinking about? Was he in his right state of mind? Is she really liking this more than she should?

No, she always felt this way. They sought comfort in each other, and being physically close was just one of them. But they were never _this_ close. Inexperienced Harry has never been the big spoon. Knowledgeable Hermione has never been the little spoon, but having read about it...Now she knew what the hype was about. This felt..._nice_...

"Harry?"

He stilled as she suddenly shifted, turning around to face him. Her movements only brought their faces closer, much to his chagrin. She didn't notice until she opened her pink mouth and started to speak.

But for a moment words failed her.

How often was Hermione close to his face? How many times did she hug him, kiss his cheek, ruffle his hair daily? Weekly?

No...this was different. Hermione may have been in his face, but it took her a moment to realize that she was _in his face_.

It then dawned on Harry that she was close enough to kiss him.

Wait, what?

His green eyes widened slightly. _No, no, you're overreacting. You're tired. She's tired. You're anxious. Having her closer than normal isn't a bad thing._ He could smell her vanilla and honey shampoo, he could see her lips part as they took in a steady breath or two, her chest barely brushing up against his as she did so and-

Suddenly, it's a _very_ bad thing.

Hermione slowly reached for his face, _what is she-?,_ but to his surprise ( and admittedly slight embarrassment ) she began to pull his glasses off his face instead. She became a radiant orange blur then, her face illuminated by the fire light, and Harry couldn't be more relieved that for once he couldn't see her.

He felt her shift again, _Blimey, Hermione_, until they were back to how they originally started. She wrapped his arm back around her, clutching his hand with her own, and he let his face fall into her hair again.

"Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you...remember...when we first met?"

He heard her giggle. Music to his ears. "It's something I could never forget. You in your cousin's clothes-"

"You and your bushy hair and bucked teeth-"

"Ron and his dirty nose-"

"_And Neville's toad,_" they said together, laughing quietly as they reminisced. The days that were somewhat easier, yet he was just as miserable. No clue of his identity or who he really was. Zoom forward to Hagrid knocking down his door and telling him that he is a wizard, and even further - the day he met Hermione.

And he never would have thought that six years later he would be holding her like this. The bossy boots, addict to school, turned out to be one of his best friends and he can't imagine life without her.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"I was thinking..."

He couldn't deny the way his heart jumped just then. "...Yeah?"

"We haven't seen Hagrid in a while -" _Oh_. "- so I was thinking that we could go visit him? You, Ron, and I?"

Harry yawned and nodded against her hair. "I don't see why not," he answered with a sigh.

Hermione trembled.

"_Harry_..."

"_What_?" He wanted sleep. Now.

"You know you breathing down my neck isn't at all distracting."

He felt his lips curve into a smirk. "Really?"

She gently slapped his arm. "Don't be so daft."

"I am not daft. I am tired and I wish to go to sleep."

"Then go to sleep."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"You're still talking."

Hermione's mouth dropped, and he laughed, if even possible, bringing them closer.

"Goodnight, Hermione." _Thank you for being there. I don't know what I would do without you._

"Goodnight, Harry," she whispered back.

Sleep didn't take them away until the last dying embers of the flames finally burned out.

* * *

><p>"You really don't remember what happened that night, do you?" Hermione was saying about a week later. She caught up with Luna in the corridor, and decided to walk with her to the Great Hall.<p>

"No...I'm afraid I do not?" Luna replied. "Why ask me this now?"

"Well...I figured that you would bring it up in conversation?"

"Bring what up?" It's Cho who joins the conversation, now walking on the other side of Hermione.

Hermione blurted out a quiet, "Nothing" while Luna said, "I am not sure..." Cho, however, bless her, let that go and changed the subject. "Did you all sleep well at least?"

"I did." Luna nodded.

"I suppose," said Hermione.

"You're playing with your hair again. Nervous, are you?"

Hermione's fingers stilled, eyes wide as she realized that the raven-haired Ravenclaw was right. "I'm not nervous." Her gaze couldn't settle in one place. "What makes you say so?"

"First Draco, and now you?" Luna eyed the bookworm in mild fascination, her big eyes even wider than usual. "Hm, the wrackspurts sure are acting strange...I wonder why?"

"Do wonder, Luna." Cho smiled at her, then gave Hermione a concerned look. "Hermione, are you sure you're alright?"

Hermione nodded.

They reached the Great Hall but before they entered, a pair of arms wrapped around Hermione from behind and twirled her around. The bookworm squealed, hands automatically clamping down on hands that obviously didn't belong to her but were just as familiar.

"Harry!"

"Happy birthday," he muttered in her ear, pecking her on the cheek.

"You scared the bloody hell out of me!" exclaimed a flushed Hermione, whirling around at the sound of Ron's laughter.

"That was _priceless_, and you know it!" guffawed Ron, picking her up and kissing the opposite cheek.

"I hate the both of you!"

Harry and Ron snickered, knowing her anger wasn't going to last. Seeing their laughter, especially Harry's, is what brought a smile to her face, letting her arms fall to her sides. They didn't forget her birthday. Her two best friends who forget their homework and anything else on a daily basis remembered one of the most special days between the three.

Sighing, she ran at the two, throwing her arms around both boys, who had to duck their heads so she wouldn't have to strain. Chuckling, they shot each other a look over her shoulder, arms wrapping around her in enthusiasm.

"Don't make me vomit."

That sneer, recognizable from a mile away, was what broke the golden trio's group hug. Draco, rarely alone, walked up to them with his usual swagger. Ron tensed, he and Harry looking down at Hermione to see how this was going to play out.

"Be nice, _Draco_. It's my birthday," said Hermione, crossing her arms smugly. Ron didn't trust the Malfoy, and neither did Harry, but they suppressed their instincts to do something rash and kept rude comments to themselves.

"Is that supposed to be an excuse?" There was amusement in his eyes now, even if his smirk was sinister.

"It is today," Hermione countered with.

Draco tilted his chin up. "Fair enough," and came closer. When Hermione moved forward to meet him in the middle, Harry's hand, hidden in his robes, balled into a fist to restrain himself from yanking her back.

"Put her there - _partner_," Draco held out his hand.

Hermione grinned and reached out to shake his hand. He could be decent when he wasn't being an arse, and he was actually putting an effort to be somewhat nice. She had a feeling Pansy had something to do with it; she'll have to speak with her later.

"Happy birthday...you _filthy_ little _Mudblood_," he said for old times sake, and Harry was as shocked as Ron when Hermione giggled; they were..._teasing_ each other now? And it was somewhat _friendly_?

"Thank you..._ferret_," said Hermione, laughing harder at the feigned look of horror on his face.

And, knowing that Harry was looking, Draco brought the top of her hand up to his mouth to kiss it. Potter's reaction was absolutely hilarious, and he wished he had a camera to capture it all; he saw his nostrils flare, and his green eyes widen in horror and something that Draco _knew_ was there-clear jealousy.

Hermione gave him a look of approval, lowering her hand before turning to everyone else, mouths dropped to the ground.

"It's a gift," a nonchalant Hermione said before giggling and walking back to the Great Hall, her hand grabbing Harry's when she passed him and Ron; she completely missed the pleasantly surprised look on his face and the pink staining his cheeks, entering the busy room with her friends trailing behind her.


	7. Letters

**This chapter is more of a filler, but it was fun to write nonetheless c:**

* * *

><p>Hermione, Luna, Ginny, Pansy, and Cho were lounging around the Room of Requirement, doing homework and what-not. Pansy earned enough of their trust for the former D.A. students to show her where it was. The room was set up like a common room, with couches and a fire burning in the fireplace, and a mixture of all of their Houses.<p>

"Who are you writing, Granger?" noted Pansy, automatically catching the girls' attention.

"Viktor," said Hermione absentmindedly without pausing her writing.

"_Krum_?" Ginny stared at her friend in disbelief.

"Do we know any other Viktors, Ginny?" Hermione was hiding her smile now.

"Cheating already on Potter? I am both disappointed and oddly pleased with this new information."

"Parkinson, don't you dare."

"Hang on." Hermione paused, slowly lifting her head to meet the smug gaze of the Slytherin. "What makes you think there's something going on between Harry and me?"

Pansy pointedly exchanged glances with Ginny, then Luna, then Cho, before smirking wider. "As smart as you claim yourself to be, Granger, when it comes to men you are indefinitely oblivious."

"Oblivious to what? Harry is my best friend and Viktor is...a friend..." Hermione blushed faintly.

"Oh yeah?" Pansy got up, plopping herself down on the couch next to her. "If you are just 'friends', then you wouldn't mind if I read your little letter, would you?"

"No! Wait, yes!"

But it was too late, because Pansy danced her way out of Hermione's grasp, Hermione's letter to Viktor along with it.

"'Dear Viktor,'" Pansy started off out loud, twisting her body this way and that when Hermione's hands got too close. "'I am so glad you are doing well! I'm surprised that you still write to me. I reckon I'm not as fascinating as you thought I was in Fourth Year. How's Quidditch season? I don't keep up with these sort of things, but I do ask Harry and Ron if my interest is peeked enough...'"

While Pansy read, she mockingly twirled her hair and made faces, a poor imitation of Hermione's voice making the girls giggle. The bookworm in question was blushing hard in embarrassment, burying her face in her hands.

"...'What about you? Have you found _the one_ yet?' Oooh, _scandalous_! 'It must be tough looking for her when all the fans care about is your fame. It gets that way with Harry sometimes-' Ooh, Granger, I'm seeing Potter's name _everywhere_!"

"Really?" Ginny stood up and rushed to Pansy's side to look along with her.

"'Potter this', 'Potter that'," Pansy pointed on the parchment every time she spotted Harry's name printed in Hermione's fine penmanship.

"_Murder_ me, Luna," whined Hermione, and the latter patted her knee.

"He knew Cedric, didn't he?"

It was Cho who spoke, and Hermione's head snapped in her direction. Cho's smile was sad, but Hermione was proud of her for keeping herself steady.

"Yes." Hermione nodded, treading carefully. Studying the other girl's face. "Yes, he did. Both were champions, just like Harry. And Fleur."

Cho nodded, and by then Pansy and Ginny were also staring at her.

"I-I'm okay. Really," she attempted to reassure the group. "I never got to know him really, so...do you think he would mind if I write to him as well? Do you think he'll remember me?"

"I can add that in my letter-if I get it _back_," said Hermione, adding the last part with a pointed look. Pansy snickered, handing the letter back, and Hermione snatched it. "I can attach our letters together if you like."

"How do you get your letters to him? Don't you have an owl?" said Ginny.

"Sometimes I use an owl from the Owlery," said Hermione. "Sometimes Hedwig," she added a little quieter.

"_Harry's_ owl," teased Ginny, and the other three giggled.

"It always comes back to you and Potter, doesn't it?" Pansy resumed her place beside Hermione, smugness back on her features.

"You lot are impossible." Hermione went back to her letter, picking up her quill and dipping it back into the bottle of ink nestled in her lap. A small grin on her face.

"...We're still going to talk about this," said Pansy.

"Shove off, Parkinson."

"Fine! We don't talk, _you_ don't finish that letter." Pansy grabbed Hermione's quill and ink before Hermione could protest, and Ginny slipped the letter out from under her hands. Hermione, arms up chest level, watched in amusement as Pansy laid down and scooted up, shifting comfortably as her head landed in Hermione's lap.

"Make yourself at home," said Hermione sarcastically, and Pansy grinned, shifting a bit more before lazily laying her arms across her abdomen. "We're not discussing this."

"Okay. We'll save your arse for last. Lovegood, rumour has it that you're Draco's new arm candy."

"Are you sure you're not the one who started that rumour?" replied Luna lightly, and Ginny laughed.

"What are you laughing at, Weaslette? She's not the only one with a Slytherin fancying her."

That smile wiped clean off of Ginny's face. "What do you mean?"

Pansy giggled darkly. "Honestly! You two are so funny. Why would I be lying when Draco and Blaise are the only reason why I get up in the morning? I know them like I know the back of my hand. I'm telling you. I can tell when they fancy someone. And believe me-they do. Even if they're too stubborn and angsty to see it."

"What made you want to socialize with us in the first place? You never have before," said Ginny.

"You act like we're the only ones interacting with the other Houses."

"I know. But they never bully each other prior the relationship. Like _normal_ people."

"Well I'm not normal. _Obviously_." Pansy sighed, feeling Hermione's fingers run through her sleek, dark locks. "I challenged them to interact with you lot this Year, and knowing Draco he never backs down from a challenge."

"So you've been faking it the whole time?"

"At first, yeah. But for some reason you blood traitors grew on us." Her lips twitched.

"And me?" Hermione arched an eyebrow, pausing her stroking.

"Well you used to be _the_ Mudblood. Now you're _our_ Mudblood," a nonchalant Pansy shrugged.

"I feel honoured."

"You should be." Pansy squeezed Hermione's knee affectionately, and Hermione stuck her tongue out at her.

"Does he really?"

All eyes were on Ginny now.

"Fancy me, I mean." Ginny coughed awkwardly, going as red as her hair.

"You're not _horrible_ looking." Pansy's eyes gave her a once-over. "And you play Quidditch. So I guess you're not completely bland either. I approve."

"_Thanks_." Ginny's tone was dripping in sarcasm.

"Ginny..." Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Do you-?"

"No!" interjected Ginny, blushing deeper.

Hermione gasped. _"You do."_

"No I do not!"

"If Ginny denies it, then it cannot be true," said Luna without looking up from _The Quibbler._

"Thank you, Luna."

"Unless the denial is covering up her true feelings of course," Luna went on, and Ginny's nostrils flared. "Then she shouldn't be ashamed of them. It's only natural, I suppose. I've been having dreams of Draco as of late, so it must be the wrackspurts again-"

"Pause." Pansy held up a hand. "One, what the bloody hell is a wrackspurt? And two, what's this about Draco dreams?"

"I sleepwalk often, you see," explained Luna, unblinking. "I dream of Mother, and Daddy too sometimes. I see myself walking to my mother, just like I did the day she died. But then I hear Draco's voice, and he's telling me to run. Sometimes the dream ends there, sometimes he grabs me and we run together and it gets dark. And then I'd wake up. I think it's a sign. Hmm..."

Pansy blinked.

"Oh, and wrackspurts are invisible creatures that swarm around in your ears and make your brain go fuzzy," Luna added.

"You're so loony, Lovegood."

"Thank you."

Pansy just shook her head; if Luna truly didn't care what people said about her, and didn't take it to heart as much as the others did, she sure was a keeper.

"So you fancy him." It wasn't a question. Pansy sat up, wrapping her arms around her knees, her back leaning up against Hermione's shoulder.

"I am not sure," said Luna honestly, flipping to another page in _The Quibbler_.

"You _do_ look at him like he's the last bowl of pudding when you think nobody is looking," said Ginny. "It's _disgusting._"

"It's adorable, _put a sock in it_," snapped Pansy. "Oh wait, can your family afford socks?"

_"Enough_," interjected Hermione, speaking up before things got out of hand. Pansy relaxed her tensed shoulders and leaned up against her again, and Ginny grumbled something unintelligent under her breath. "Instead of interrogating us, why don't you give us something? Is there someone you fancy?"

Pansy snorted. "No."

"Not even Neville?" Hermione sounded surprised.

"No. He was just the first person I was nice to. Always sounding so surprised when I attempt to make conversation. Like he's afraid of me. Or girls period. D'you think he's gay?"

"No!" Hermione and Ginny exclaimed.

"Just a simple question, no need to get your knickers in a twist."

"Neville's never really had...luck with girls," said Hermione.

"Proves my point."

"No...he's fancied nearly all of us at least once at some point. He told me so. Around First and Second Year, he fancied me a little. Third and Fourth was Ginny. Fifth was Luna."

"And now?"

"Nobody."

"Poor Longbottom."

"Yeah..."

"You know what we should do-"

"Absolutely not."

"You don't even know what I was going to say."

"Yes I do. We are _not_ interfering in Neville's personal life. When love is real, it finds a way."

"You totally quoted that from a romance novel."

"...And?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "You are such a know-it-all."

"Tell me something I don't know," grinned Hermione.

* * *

><p>Harry suddenly found his lap occupied.<p>

"Why hello."

"Hi." Hermione yawned, curling into him, her legs resting in another lap.

"Tired, are you?" chuckled Ron, already moving his hands to massage her ankles.

"Tired. Beat. Lap. Comfy. Missed you." She closed her eyes, leaning into Harry's touch as his fingers weaved through her curls.

"Missed you too. Have to admit, I was starting to miss your nagging," said Ron with a grin.

"Ooh, if I wasn't so comfortable then I would..." Cue another yawn.

"What?" challenged Ron teasingly.

"...get...your sister...to hex you into next week." Her smile was sleepy, but mischievous at the same time.

"Where've you been all day?" said Harry.

"Well, while you two were at Quidditch, I decided to get some studying done...wrote a letter to Viktor..." Yawn. "Luna and Ginny...and Cho and Parkinson were with me too...Fuuuun."

Harry hummed, his gaze on the fire as he continued to run his fingers through her scalp.

"Hang on - you still write to _Viktor_?" exclaimed Ron.

Hermione smirked. "Jealous?"

Harry laughed at the bewildered look on Ron's face.

_"Why does everyone think I'm jealous?!"_

"Because you always get this worked up whenever I mention a boy that's not you or Harry," said Hermione.

"And believe it or not, mate, it's kind of funny," said Harry.

Ron glowered at the floor, resuming his massaging. "I hate you both."

"I love you, Ronald," said Hermione in a small, irresistible voice.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

"I love you, Harry."

"Love you more."

"Not possible."

_"I AM GOING TO VOMIT ON BOTH OF YOU."_

A pause.

"We love you, Ronald."

"**THAT'S IT**."

And with that, Ron tackled his two best friends to the ground, the Golden Trio becoming a tangled heap of limbs on the common room floor.

* * *

><p>"Move," demanded Pansy, and Draco and Blaise made faces at her but obliged, each male moving in the opposite direction.<p>

"You know a _'please'_ would have sufficed," grumbled Blaise.

"'_Please_' is for _peasants_."

"Did she seriously just say 'peasants'?"

"She didn't get it from me," said Draco.

"Probably from me," said Daphne Greengrass as she walked by the Silver Trio.

"_I will smother you with my pillow in your sleep._"

"Love you too!" The blonde called over her shoulder as she headed up to the Girls' Dormitory. She paused to lean back, peeping her head around the corner and asked, "Have any of you seen my sister?"

"No," the three answered without looking at her.

"Just checking." And she disappeared.

"You have a _wonderful_ way of showing your affection."

"I do try, you know. Maybe you and Blaise should do the same, Draco."

"I heard my name. Why did I hear my name?"

"Because you two are idiots who are blind and can't see what's right in front of you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Pansy smirked. "You'll find out."

* * *

><p>"Hermione?"<p>

"Yeah?"

"Is there...are you...?"

"...What?"

"Do you still fancy Viktor?"

Their gazes never left the ceiling, because both were reluctant to look at each other. Ron, always the awkward one out, lay flat on his stomach with his face smushed up against the carpet.

"I used to, but I suppose I stopped around Fifth Year. Why?"

"Just curious."

"Maybe he's _jealous,_" mocked Ron grumpily.

"Shut up, Ron."

Hermione sighed, her right hand reaching over to touch Harry's, and her left coming over Ron's. "You both are unbelievable."

Harry grinned and Ron wrinkled his nose.

"Ron?"

"Hm?"

"You've got dirt on your nose, by the way. Did you know? Just there."

Ron sat up so fast that his head spun, rubbing desperately at his nose. "Damn it! Just damn it all!"

Harry and Hermione got to the point where they were laughing so hard that they had to hold each other in the progress.


	8. Distractions

**THAT LAST CHAPTER WAS SO FLUFFY.**

**( It wasn't planned, I swear. )**

**( Get used to the fluff while you can, 'cause that normally happens before stuff goes down, you feel me. )**

**I just love Pansy Parkinson, okay. I don't know what I'm doing to make you guys think that I can write the Slytherins as lovable jerks, buuuut I must be doing something right because of your constant love and support. So thank you!**

**Also, not gonna say any names, but uh-**

***clears throat***

**ME AND THE BAE AJ ARE THROWING A PARTY AND YOU ARE NOT INVITED.**

**As for the rest of you, enjoy the chapter. For all of you action lovers, things will definitely pick up by Christmas ;3**

* * *

><p>"Granger!"<p>

Hermione turned her head just as Pansy caught up with her, the Slytherin slinging a casual arm around the Gryffindor's shoulders. Students passing by could only gape but the two payed them no mind as they wandered down the corridor.

Smiling faintly, she greeted Pansy with a simple, "Hello."

"Where are you going?"

"Quidditch field."

"Off to go watch your boyfriend?"

"Yes. The _both_ of them." Hermione stuck her tongue out at her, and Pansy snorted, letting her arm fall to her side.

"Well, Draco and Blaise are nowhere in sight so I guess your company will suffice." Pansy followed the bookworm outside.

"Haven't seen them?"

"No. Have you?"

"No. In fact, I've barely seen Malfoy _at all_ this week, and when we go on our patrols, he's..."

_"Off?"_

"Yeah...do you know what's wrong with him? Is he not getting any sleep at all?"

"How should I know? He never tells me anything."

"I would have figured that since you two-"

"It gets that way sometimes. One minute we're fine, and the next he has the nerve to ignore me." Hermione watched as Pansy's facial expression darkened for a split second, shoulders stiff and jaw taut; she knew there was something else, and had a good feeling what it was. There was a time when Pansy and Draco dated ; and even then, she was still neglected. Hermione knew what that was like. To be ignored. "I mean, whatever. He can do whatever he wants," Pansy's abrupt voice brought Hermione back out of her thoughts. "My world does _not_ revolve around him."

_Not anymore_, thought Hermione.

* * *

><p>"Nervous, are you?"<p>

"About what? Me? I'm not nervous. No. Why? Who told you? Was it Ginny? Ginny told you, didn't she?"

Harry pried Ron's fingers off of his shirt, lips quivering. "It's alright to be nervous, Ron. It's going to be your first game tomorrow."

"Maybe I could use a little luck?" sighed Ron as they walked to the field, Harry now turning his attention to his shoes. Ron may not be the best player in the world, but he still mattered. Harry knew he was referring to Potions class. He was never an ace in that class until now, with the help of his handy dandy-

"Harry!"

Both boys turned around just as Hermione walked up to them, surprised to see Pansy Parkinson with her. Harry still kept his guard up around the Slytherins despite their sudden "change", especially Malfoy. And he was just looking out for Hermione, that's all. It wasn't his fault that he expected any one of them to glare or taunt and tease or utter, "Mudblood" whenever Hermione's around.

So it's safe to say that his smile is a little strained at the moment. "Hermione."

"Potter. Weasle."

"Parkinson," uttered the boys awkwardly.

Pansy expected that, like he knew she would, and sighed impatiently. "Can we go now? This better be worth my time, Granger."

Hermione opened her mouth to answer but she was already sauntering her way to the stands.

"Ron."

"What?"

"You're staring."

"At what?"

"Not what, _who_."

"Who?"

"You know who. -Don't you dare," Harry turned his gaze onto Hermione knowingly, the latter giggling and pressing her lips together.

"We should get to the field, Harry." Ron was already walking ahead of them, the other two staring at the back of his head quizzically. "I want to embarrass myself _before_ I wet my trousers."

"What's wrong with him?" said Hermione.

"Dunno," said Harry. The two then turned to each other, identical grins beginning to spread across their faces. The kind that was effortless, and didn't take much thought. "See you later?"

Hermione nodded. "Good luck out there."

Harry watched Ron closely as they practiced. Everyone was getting the hang of things pretty fast, but Ron was still a little spotty in places. "You're thinking too much, Ron!" he called out to him with his hand over his mouth, and Ron looked up at the wrong second because it was right then that he got hit in the face with the Quaffle. Harry winced, his gaze then flickering to Ginny.

"Sorry!" Ginny called back, and Harry nodded. But if looks could kill, Ginny would be on the ground. Harry chuckled at the look of rage on Ron's face; he could even see the outline of where the Quaffle had hit him, the patch on his face redder than his hair. Harry decided to turn his attention from Ron and focused on his Seeker skills instead. He was a bit rusty, so he needed the practice too. He scoped the field for the Snitch until he spotted a flicker of gold. And he sped right for it without a second thought.

Hermione sat up straighter, and Pansy frowned at her reaction, her own icy orbs following her gaze to see what the hype was about. Honestly, she was never into Quidditch, and even when Draco joined she had no idea what was going on.

Oh. Right. Pansy smiled darkly. She was watching her boyfriend.

The Slytherin arched an eyebrow at Weasley's pathetic attempts to block Weaslette's shots. Was he serious? She did nothing to hide her snort when he got hit several times, and she had to give props to the youngest Weasley who she was positive was doing this on purpose. What a klutz.

"Parkinson, watch out!"

Pansy whipped her head around just in time to see Potter head straight for her and Granger, a devious smile on his face and his hand outstretched. Both girls screeched as he suddenly fell forward, flipping so swiftly that for the first time, Pansy thought she was crazy and nearly missed it. Having jumped in opposite direction, Pansy and Granger sat up, Pansy looking murderous and the muggleborn placing a hand over her startled heart.

Potter was now sitting upright on his broomstick, holding the golden Snitch in his hand, and grinning in victory.

"Harry!" whined Hermione.

"Sorry. Startled you, did I?" He was still wearing that grin on his face.

"A _little!_" she squeaked. Breathless sarcasm.

Harry snickered.

"Harry! That's not funny! You could have got us hurt!"

"But I wouldn't have."

_"Could_ have!"

"Hermione-"

_"What?!"_

"You're making a scene."

Hermione's wide eyes never left his, afraid to look anywhere else. "Everyone's staring at me, aren't they?"

"Pointedly." Pansy smirked. "You must feel pretty stupid right now."

Harry glared at Pansy, who gave him a mocking look in return, before settling his gaze back on his best friend. "Come on," he said simply, reaching for her hand.

"What?" Hermione's hand was already in his before she realized what he was trying to do.

"Come on," repeated Harry, tugging her hand with a little more force, flying to the side so the broomstick was in reach.

"What are you doing?"

"Hermione-"

"I am not-"

"You're being difficult-"

"I don't want to-"

"Come on-"

"No-"

"_Come on_-"

"_N-!_"

But it was too late, because by then Harry had coaxed her into throwing one leg over, and even her body was acting against her brain. Now she sat on his broomstick, him flush behind her, his arms wrapped around her to reach the front of the broom. Or at least, that's what she thought. His hands found hers first instead, maneuvering them into the correct grip. Her heart felt like it was about to burst out of her chest, and she wondered if it had to do with the scary heights or something else.

And it was reflected on Harry's end. He obviously didn't think this through, and took his racing heart to be the adrenaline rushing through his veins, and his eagerness to have Hermione experience the fun that was _flying_. He's always wanted to teach her. And now he was, whether she liked it or not, he mused.

He watched his hands come over hers, their fingers lacing together slightly as he rearranged them. He liked the way her hands felt under his; soft and slender. Hermione slowly turned her head to meet his gaze, his meeting hers simultaneously.

His lips pulled up in both corners, his smile so stupid and boyish that she couldn't resist _not_ returning.

"I'm going to vomit."

Ignoring Pansy's comment while positive Hermione shot her friend a look, Harry's grip tightened on her hands. Bringing her attention, he asked her for silent permission for him to continue ( like she had a choice if she refused ). Hermione barely got out a nod before they were suddenly being launched downwards, and her screams and his laughter lit up the sky with their sounds.

Her back was pressed into his chest as far as she could go, gripping his broom for dear life and ( possibly ) screaming for her life. Harry, finding all of this amusing, cheek in perfect alignment with hers, could only laugh and whoop and holler with her. Screw practice. He preferred this any day.

Especially now that he knew that her screams were of jubilance instead of fear. She was _giggling_. Actually_ giggling_, and that made him speed things up a little, angling his broomstick up.

Her eyes were wide in fascination, heart jumping around again as they soared higher and higher, disappearing into the clouds. The view from there was amazing, even if all she could see _was_ the clouds. How far were they going to go?

Their gazes met again over her shoulder, both smiling; Harry wagged his eyebrows at her and she felt him rear left and down.

And before she knew it they were pummeling back down to the earth. The further Harry angled the broom, the steeper and faster they went. Her hair was past messy at this point -and they'll argue over who's hair was the messiest later- whipping back into his cheeks. But the grin never left his face. Her fingers lifted and spread, his subconsciously intertwining with hers and locking in place.

Finally, after what felt like forever, they came to a swift stop, Harry laughing at Hermione as she stumbled off, her legs wobbling and hands out to find her balance; Hermione was not amused, chest heaving and ready to lung herself at her best friend, who was still laughing as he hopped off his broomstick with unbelievable grace. The arse.

"You did it! Shouldn't that count for something?" He dodged each punch, grabbing each wrist from an opposite position. "Admit it." He barely felt her straining as his hands left her wrists, curving around each palm instead. "You had fun."

"_Harry_," whined Hermione.

"_Hermione_," mocked Harry, shaking their twined hands.

"You are _so_-!"

"Amazing? Wonderful? _Taller_?"

Hermione opened her mouth to protest when she realized he was...right?

"By a _hair_," she teased, leaning in a bit.

"Granger, I believe your measuring is a _little_ off." He was leaning too.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Says who?"

"Me."

"Out of the two of us, who exceeds in everything?"

"With the exception of Quidditch?"

"Y-"

"And _Potions_?"

"You little-!"

"It's not cheating if you simply _read the instructions_, Hermione. And, you know. _Follow them?_"

Hermione ripped her hands from his grip, aiming to punch him instead. With his Seeker reflexes Harry was faster, avoiding her completely and reversing his footing, firmly grabbing her from behind. Hermione squealed, feeling her feet leave the ground, fingers finding his and clenching them as his arms encircled around her frame completely, Harry twirling her around so fast that her legs became loose noodles and she couldn't tell right from left anymore.

"Stop, stop, stop!" She laughed.

Of course he didn't. And she didn't want him to either.

"Ahem."

Harry stopped - bloody hell, now he was dizzy too - and blinked several times before the image of a very smug Ginny came to view.

"Ginny? Is that you?" Hermione stumbled forward and the youngest Weasley giggled in response, her arms coming around the girl to steady her.

"Sorry, Hermione, but our dear Captain needs to focus for our first game," teased Ginny, shooting Harry a pointed look. "You might want to tone the affection down a notch there," she whispered to Hermione as she guided her back to the stands. "Wouldn't want to give Parkinson enough juice to spread rumours with, would you?"

"She's plotting, isn't she?" Hermione stopped walking to rub her forehead, closing her eyes to stop the world from spinning so fast.

"From the look on her face? I'm guessing it's a little late for that," said Ginny.

* * *

><p>"It's only a matter of time," Pansy was saying to her little clique, Daphne Greengrass among the eager eyes, hungry for more information. Hermione marched right over to her, not paying attention to the sneering she was given by the majority of the girls.<p>

"Excuse me, but may I borrow Pansy for a moment?"

She didn't give time for anyone to answer, grabbing Pansy's arm and yanking her around the corner.

"Watch the hand. This is a new shade." Pansy was nonchalant as ever, pulling her arm away to examine her manicured nails.

"I don't care! What the hell do you think you're doing?" snapped Hermione in a whisper.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm telling them what they want to know."

"And now I'm telling you to stop it _right now_!"

"Okay, _Mom_." Pansy rolled her eyes. "What's the problem?"

"Right now, _you're_ my problem."

"Care to elaborate?"

"...Don't make me say it..."

"Ohh, right now I'm starting to think you want me to." Smirking.

"You know..." Hermione made an impatient gesture with her hand, and when Pansy made no move to speak again, she sighed impatiently. "..._aboutmeandhhh_..." she grumbled in a small voice.

"About you and 'hhh'? Who's 'hhh'?" Pansy mimicked the sound, thoroughly smug and amused.

_"...Harry...!_" Hermione forced the name out of her lips, desperate to get it over with and done.

_"Potter?"_

"Shh!"

"Okay, bossy boots."

"Parkinson, I know you and I know what you do!"

"What's wrong with being happy at the expense of others?"

"_Everything_!"

"Okay, okay, calm down. Don't get your knickers in a twist. I didn't tell them about you riding Potter's broom yesterday. Ugh, _finally_." Hermione went very pink in the face and Pansy giggled darkly. "What? With all that screaming you were doing, it was hard to ignore-"

"Please stop talking."

"Watching people squirm is just another hobby of mine, bonus if I cause it."

"Your hobbies are disturbing."

"Says the one riding broomsticks."

Now counting down from ten.

Nine. She slowly turned on the heel of her shoe and began to walk back where she came from.

Six. Five. Four.

"Make sure his broom is riding-ready for today, Granger! No one likes a loser with a limp-"

Hermione's hands came over her ears, speeding up her walking. "Please stop talking!"

* * *

><p>"You look pale," noted Luna.<p>

"Gee, thanks," grunted Ron.

"Luna's right. You need to eat." Harry set a glass in front of Ron. "Juice."

Hermione's eyes narrowed at Harry as he slipped Felix Felicis back into his pocket.

"Wouldn't want you to get sick...Is that why you put something in his cup?" asked Luna.

Ron slowly picked up the cup, Harry eyeing him expectantly.

"Ron! Don't drink that!" warned Hermione.

Ron did it anyway. It took a moment, but the color returned to his face and a confident, goofy grin spread across his face.

"C'mon, Harry. We've got a game to win!"

The two grinned and did a little handshake as they got up to leave to prep before the game.

"Wait!"

Hermione jogged up to them, and the duo stopped walking to face her. She shot Harry a firm _we'll talk later_ look before softening her gaze on Ron.

"Good luck today, okay?" Brown orbs flickered from blue pools to green flames. "Be careful. The both of you."

"Came to give us our good luck kiss?" Ron smiled down at her, and she scoffed before leaning up on her tiptoes. Ron bent down so she wouldn't have to strain, smiling wider when she kissed his cheek.

Moving on to Harry, she scowled at him as she leaned up to kiss him too. Startled, he stiffened a little when she grabbed the back of his neck, lips at his ear. "_I know what you did."_ And she kissed him on the cheek right after doing so.

Harry grinned at her backside, watching her walk away. He followed Ron out of the Great Hall, his liquid luck, untouched and shut tight, jumping around in his pocket.

_No you don't._


	9. Jealousy

**Thanks for the love c: I really appreciate it.**

**Don't really know what else to put here so...*casually places chapter here and rolls away***

* * *

><p><em>WEASLEY. WEASLEY. WEASLEY.<em>

The Gryffindors cheered Ron on as he blocked shot after shot, each time more skillful than the last. Hermione shook her head, clapping along with the crowd. Luna and Parvati cheered next to her, and even Pansy, with her House playing against theirs, had somehow navigated her way through the crowd so she was standing between Hermione and Neville; giving Hermione a little nudge and smirk before she too began clapping her hands and chanting the Weasley name.

* * *

><p>The after party was <em>crazy<em>.

Ron, for the first time, was at the center of attention. And he was _loving_ it. Harry stood with Hermione in the back, grinning as he watched everyone cheer and whoop and holler.

"You know you shouldn't have done it."

"You're right. I guess I could've just used a Confundus Charm." Harry looked over at Hermione, an eyebrow raised.

"...That's different..." Hermione had only interfered to help Ron, and she never liked McLaggen; she watched as Harry's hand dipped inside his jacket pocket, pulling out Felix. Untouched. Full from bottom to the top. "You didn't put it in," realization dawned on her, and he shook his head. "Ron _thought_ you did." Harry grinned and nodded, returning his attention back to the party.

Hermione shook her head. He never ceased to amaze her. She took a glance downwards, his hand catching her eye; her hand lay just inches away.

Harry looked down at the feeling of someone brushing their fingertips against his, and, seeing that it was Hermione, met her gaze and let their fingers intertwine.

"You're still an arse," muttered Hermione, looking at anywhere else but him, and his grin was cheeky.

Lavender Brown has been trying to get Ron's attention all night (and every day so far this Year, but to no avail). Tonight, she was going to change that.

Pansy, who had been invited by Hermione, was subconsciously staring in Ron's direction when she spotted Brown moving in the crowd towards the ginger. What was she about to-?

Their eyes met, both sets narrowing.

Oh no. No, no.

_No one_ challenged Pansy Parkinson and expected to _win_.

Lavender was heading in Ron's direction, but now so was Pansy. Lavender was quick, but Pansy was faster. Pansy reached Ron right before Lavender did, startling Ron - and to be honest, the entire student body in that room - and kissed him full on the mouth.

Hermione, Luna, Ginny, and Cho gasped, Harry staring in disbelief; dumbfounded. Everyone else cheered anyway, too gone on firewhiskey to notice the shocking fact: Pansy Parkinson was kissing Ron Weasley.

And Ron Weasley was kissing her right back.

Lavender ran from the room, tears flowing, and Parvati ran after her to comfort her. Hermione left Harry's side, she and her female companions walking in a daze to get to Pansy.

The Slytherin in question broke her kiss with Ron, wiping her wet mouth with her finger. Ron, with his cheeks flushed and his lips still puckered slightly, stared at her dumbly, at a loss for words. "Impressive, Weasley." She smirked.

_"You,"_ Ginny gripped her arms, Pansy smug as she stepped down to their level, "are _crazy_." She grinned, the others crowding around her in agreement.

"I can't believe you did that. Don't you think so, Hermi-" Cho looked over her shoulder, but Hermione wasn't there anymore. "Hermione?"

This caught the others' attention, turning their heads just in time to see the back of the bookworm's, not too far away from them.

But they didn't see the hurt, betrayed look on her face; only noticing her swaying on the spot.

Because, in that corner where Hermione had been, Romilda Vane had Harry wrapped up in a passionate liplock.

* * *

><p>"Wotcher, Hermione."<p>

Harry caught her arm, a casual smile making its way across his face. He's glad he caught up to her. He wanted to talk to her since the party, but he had a good feeling that she was avoiding him. Ron would definitely ignore her in this situation; but Harry wasn't Ron. He wanted to know what was bothering her and help her in any way he could - even if he wasn't the best with the whole 'girl' thing. As soon as he grabbed her, she tensed up, and he felt her under his strong grip. He wasn't hurting her, physically he knew. Did he hurt her feelings? What did he do? Girls were confusing.

Hermione inhaled slowly through her nose, a tight lipped smile flashing up at him in return. Obviously forced. Harry's smile faded, and he got a closer look at her. She was pale, almost as pale as him - well, his paleness wasn't stark white, and he _has_ been getting sun lately from Quidditch, but still - and the bags under her eyes gave proof that she hadn't been sleeping well. Her caramel locks, once vibrant and alive, were now loose and limp, and even the brown in her eyes were flat. When she spoke, her tone was overly cheerful and cracked between intervals. "Hi, Harry."

His green eyes narrowed. Something was definitely wrong. "Hermione, are you okay?"

"I'm fine! Why wouldn't I be fine? There's nothing wrong." He felt her give under his fingers and loosened his grip entirely, letting her go automatically. Hermione rubbed her wrist gingerly, her gaze at anywhere but him; no...he didn't really hurt her, did he? "Nothing _at all._"

Harry opened his mouth to push further, but Hermione was already muttering, "See you around, Harry," as she moved passed him and walked away quickly; shoulders tight and head ducked down. He watched her leave with saddened pools, guilt punching him in the gut. This had to do with him. He was the reason she was miserable. He knew it.

He was gonna find out why, no matter what it takes.

.

"Ginny, a word?" said Harry.

Ginny got up from her seat, joining Harry in a short stroll down the corridor. Ginny knew Hermione better than anyone. He hoped that she would open up and be honest with him; he didn't bother with Parkinson, and talking to Cho made him nervous. Luna was the second option, if his chat with Ginny didn't go so well.

He crossed his fingers.

"Hermione's mad at me."

"Really? I had no idea."

Harry shot Ginny a look, and the latter grinned teasingly. His look serious, he went on, "I don't know what I did. She's mad at me, I suppose, but I just don't know _why_..."

Ginny studied him closely. "You...really don't know, do you?"

Harry shook his head, truly at a loss.

Ginny sighed. "Well, I hate seeing two of my best friends beating themselves up over each other so...I guess I can help you, Harry."

His face lit up. "Have I ever told you how bloody brilliant you are?"

She giggled. "You can stand to mention it more, yeah?"

.

"He's worried." Ginny sat down in the empty seat next to Luna, setting her bag down next to the leg of the chair. "You two need to make up. Now."

"I don't feel like talking to him at the moment." Hermione stiffly flipped to the next page of her book, chin tilted high in a stubborn pout.

"Oh yes you do." Ginny snatched the book away from Hermione, and before the muggleborn could take it back, the youngest Weasley lifted her butt, placed the book underneath her, and sat on it. Hermione could only gap, looking from the smug ginger to the seemingly oblivious blonde, who decided at that moment to look out the window dreamily. "Why can't you just admit that you're jealous and go talk to him like any normal human being?"

"What? I-I'm not _jealous_!" exclaimed Hermione, cheeks flaming. "That's completely and utterly absurd and improbable!"

"If that's the case, then why are you getting defensive?"

"Because you keep pestering me about it!" Hermione shot up and turned around, only to run into someone and be pushed right back down by the sudden weight.

"Where do you think you're going, Granger?" Pansy smirked.

Hermione, feeling like she had just gotten the wind knocked out of her, placed a hand over her racing heart and sat up in her chair; rendered speechless for a moment or two. Pansy leaned against the bookshelf, arms crossed and one slender leg casually placed the other at a comfortable angle. Ginny leaned forward, and even Luna had her wide, silver eyes on the brown-eyed Gryffindor. Hermione was fuming. She was surrounded by witches, all who care about her to some extent, and could easily beat her in a duel if they wanted to. Ginny and Pansy especially intimidating.

Running a hand through her hair, she rested her cheek in her palm, staring grumpily at the table in silence.

"She's not going to talk," said Luna matter-of-factly.

"Which is _why_ we do this _my_ way." Pansy advanced on Hermione, the latter shrinking back in her seat as the Slytherin towered over her.

Hermione gulped.

.

Harry waited impatiently, tapping his fingers against his knee. It was nightfall, yet Harry hasn't gotten word back from Hermione or Ginny. Out of all the things he should be worrying about, his best friend was his number one priority. He was worried.

"She'll come around, Harry," said Ron, his gaze on the ceiling. "I mean, she's a girl I suppose. They all have their odd mood swings, yeah?"

"Yeah but Hermione's never been _mad_ at me before. I don't know why."

Ron opened his mouth to speak up when Seamus suddenly cut in.

"'Oi, Ron, is it _true_ that you snogged **_Pansy Parkinson_**?"

Dean snickered.

"Er-" stammered Ron, now pink in the face.

Harry shook his head, even though admittedly he was darkly amused. That really was a hair-scratcher. Ron and Parkinson? Really? Out of all of the possibilities of Ron fancying a girl in their Year, Harry would've thought that Ron and Lavender might've-

_Knock knock knock_

The room went quiet. The three knocks came again, but more timid this time. And that's when Harry _knew_. Nearly flying out of bed, he sprinted to the doors and opened one to peep at the person standing on the other side.

He saw brown eyes. Vibrant, chocolate brown eyes.

The door swung open entirely.

"Hi," said Harry, closing the door behind him as he stepped out. He got the strong sense that this moment between them deserved some privacy.

"Hi," said Hermione, her voice cracking. Oh no. Merlin, please don't tell him that she's about to-

He opened his arms and braced himself just in time before she threw herself at him, her arms in a vice grip around his shoulders and neck, pressed flush against him. Hands on her hips to steady himself so he won't fall over, his arms draped around her frame completely, holding her close. Squeezing her when she sniffled. He didn't want her to cry. What did he do _now_?

"I-I'm sorry..." croaked Hermione. "I'm so sorry. About everything. I am possibly the worst friend in the history of friends. I would know, I mean, I read about it in-"

"The library," they said together at the same time, Harry smiling and rubbing her back, and the latter giggling softly. "Hermione, I'm just glad you're talking to me right now - let alone _this_." He squeezed her again.

Hermione buried her face in his shoulder. "Sorry, sorry, sorry."

"It's alright, because the next time we're going broomstick riding, I'm not giving you a warning."

She smiled, closing her eyes. "Deal."

He did too. "As much as I would love to stand here and hug you all night-"

"Oh!" She pulled away almost immediately, blushing faintly in the moonlight.

"No," he grabbed for her hand, tugging her towards the door. "I mean-"

And with his free hand, he opened the door to the dormitory, every single one of his roommates tumbling out into the open, landing in a messy heap on the floor.

"-I'd rather do it knowing we're not being _eavesdropped_ on," said Harry, he and Hermione glaring pointedly at Ron.

"...Oh bloody hell," muttered Ron.

* * *

><p>"So do you have a date for Slughorn's party yet?"<p>

They lay together in his bed, a silencing charm set around them so his roommates could sleep. Cheeky green eyes stared back into playful brown ones.

"Are you asking me?"

"No. I would never ask you. You're terrible."

Hermione's mouth dropped, sitting up to slap his arm. Harry continued to laugh.

"Joking."

"...I know." She laid back down on her backside beside him. He elbowed her. She elbowed him back. "_What_?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"I'll answer if you answer."

"Alright - count of three. One-"

"Two-"

"Three-"

"_No_," they said simultaneously.

Hermione blinked. "You don't...?"

Harry shook his head. "No. You don't either?"

"No."

"So..."

"If you don't have a date-"

"And you don't have a date-"

"Then...maybe..."

"We could...go together? As friends?"

Hermione opened her mouth to accept, but then she smirked and narrowed her eyes; squinting. "I thought you said you'd never ask me."

"Well, _obviously_, I lied." He took her hand in both of his. "So, Hermione Jean Granger, would you please do me the honor of being my date to Slughorn's party? Pretty please? I don't think you're terrible. You're bloody brilliant."

Hermione giggled. "Well, since you put it _that_ way-"

"Is that a yes?" Harry grinned.

Her eyes brightened. "Most definitely yes."


End file.
